Lover, Hunter, Friend, and Enemy
by uriekuki
Summary: I'LL NEVER WEAR YOUR BROKEN CROWN
1. I'LL NEVER WEAR YOUR BROKEN CROWN

_Lover, Hunter, Friend, and Enemy_

There was still a dark stain on the grass. It was in the centre of camp. Unavoidable. It leered at him, a cruel reminder. In the sun it had baked to a rusty red that glinted in the light. Quailstar had become almost proud of it; she stopped by it a few times a day, leant down to hover her nose over it. Before she had died Icestar's eyes were always blank, void of expression. Her granddaughter's were always on the brink of overflowing.

Eventually, the blood would fade, and it would take with it all but the memory of what had happened under the cold stars. Until then Redfeather would continue to pretend it didn't bother him, just like it didn't bother anyone else. Well, everyone else bar one. Cedarstorm still stopped dead if he made eye contact with it.

It wasn't anger or blame Redfeather felt when he looked at the creature his mother died for. No, it was like a morbid curiosity. Here it was, a Tainted in the flesh wandering around their home. It slept beside them, it ate with them, it served their Clan, and eventually it would get a pair and have kits. Hawkstorm said the idea made him feel sick, and his own pair had agreed. But Redfeather didn't feel revolted.

"Do they always look like that?" a quiet voice asked.

Redfeather jumped and looked down at the snow coloured apprentice. "Don't sneak up on me, Whitepaw, and yes, they always look like that."

She frowned, "I thought they'd look more like monsters. You know, big fangs, ugly faces, gnarled wounds."

"Your imagination runs away with you. Go find your mentor," he scolded.

When she was gone he found himself watching Cedarstorm as he deposited a squirrel on the pile under the scrutinous eye of Stormshadow. Someone had to teach it how to function like a Clan cat. Whitepaw's words played on him. Tainted were monsters, cursed to succumb with such ease to the Poison. Strange that their appearance had stayed so normal; hadn't deformed to match the sin in their blood. Stormshadow nipped at his ears, and Cedarstorm shrunk into himself.

The rusty grass loomed in the corner of his eye. His mother's final wail echoed. Redfeather made his fur lie flat and took a heaving breath in. It would be such a waste of a significant life if Cedarstorm was found buried three feet under in a few days. Icestar had never been a warm mother, no PureClan Queen ever was. But she was his mother, and he shared her blood, so that meant something.

"I'll look after him," he found himself saying to Stormshadow, "I know you've got other things you wish you were doing."

He was a lean, weaselly looking tom with a name that did not suit him. Quailstar had been thrilled to be his pair. "You aren't nervous about catching the Poison?" Stormshadow said quietly.

"If we could catch the Poison from simply being around the Tainted we'd be catching it every raid," Redfeather sighed. "I know Quailstar appointed you as his whatever but I doubt she'll mind if I take over for a bit."

Stormshadow looked visibly relieved. "Thanks, good luck."

"What does he expect you to do," Redfeather muttered, more to himself, "attack me?"

In an act of bravado that took him by surprise, Cedarstorm stood up and hissed. "Do you think I don't have it in me to do that?"

Redfeather blinked at him, confused. Then he huffed a soft laugh. "You killed Cedarpaw, we're all very aware that you're capable of killing. You'd be very stupid to try anything murderous while in the heart of the enemy, surrounded on all sides."

"It was a stupid accident," Cedarstorm grumbled.

"Call it what you want but you're still here alive while Cedarpaw is not. If I were you I'd take this very graciously given second chance." Mice were always his favourite, so he dug through the pile until he found one.

When he straightened up Cedarstorm was watching him closely. "What do you want?" he demanded. "To torment me endlessly like the rest of these monsters?"

There was a nice patch of late afternoon sun nearby, so that's where he stretched out, completely aware of the Tainted gaze following him. Lazily he gestured to the stain. "That was my mother." He made sure Cedarstorm met his mismatched gaze, made sure he could see right into the yellow of Icestar. "I would hate for her death to go to waste. So try not to throw yourself into death's jaws. Now I'm due for a nap after this mouse, so go make friends. If you're lucky I'll teach you some priority PureClan survival lessons tomorrow."

With the sun warming his full belly, Redfeather stared up into the sky. Thick clouds meandered slowly by ushered on by a weak breeze. He hoped when he died that he would get the chance to know the mother he had seen lay down her life for a Tainted instead of the mother that had risen to power from a sea of blood and ice.

"You," Quailstar commanded the following morning only mere heartbeats after the sun had risen. "Come with me."

Garbling nonsense that got him a sneer Redfeather tumbled out of his nest, mouth opened wide in a sharp yawn. Through sleepy eyes, he saw Hawkstorm's tail whisper out of the grass and Heronmist drop into a long stretch. "What's this about?" he asked.

Was it his sleep-addled mind or did Quailstar look particularly malicious? There was definitely a glint of something in her eyes. Could have been the morning light though. "Family discussion," she purred.

"A what? We've never had one of those before." Hardly anyone else was awake. Who would be? It was barely past dawn and a little cold. Perhaps if Redfeather hadn't been so sleepy he might have noticed the soft glare of green eyes.

Pheasantfang and his apprentice, Thrushpaw, said hello as they left the camp. Apparently, some herbs preferred being picked in the cool shadow of the early morn. With bones that creaked from a night twisted in an uncomfortable position Redfeather trailed after his siblings, and niece. He couldn't even begin to fathom what Quailstar wanted with the three of them. Maybe she was going to murder them all for being Icestar's direct descendants; did she forget she herself had the same blood, just a little less of it?

"What do you want?" Heronmist yawned.

Quailstar definitely looked malicious now, and a tad excited. "Well," she began, drawing the word out into a purr. "I have some information that I think you three will find _riveting_."

It was most certainly not going to be good news, Redfeather already knew that. Nothing good happened when Quailstar was smiling. At least Hawkstorm looked excited. "Could it not have waited until after sunrise?" Heronmist muttered.

"You are all the product of the Poison."

For a few moments, Redfeather just blinked blankly at her. Them? The product of the Poison? Had she forgotten who their mother - her _grandmother _\- was? He snorted in disbelief. Of every PureClan cat that had ever existed Icestar came right after Brightstar in the likelihood to be Tainted. She was her namesake: cold to the core.

Hawkstorm broke the silence with a voice that cracked. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie?" Quailstar snapped. "Her toxic blood runs in my veins too, though less potently than it does in yours. Because of that, I elected to not inform the whole Clan of their previous leader's sin."

Of course, the news would tear at Hawkstorm more than anyone else. He had been the first of them to truly absorb PureClan's ferocious hatred of the Poison. It was his dream to be a perfect Clan warrior and his duty as deputy to protect their way of life. But to hear this? To be told that in his veins ran blood thick with sin?

The next to fall was Heronmist. There was not so much riding on the purity of her bones. But it was the panicked going over of all past interactions desperately hoping no trace of that foul Poison could be seen that he watched play over his dear sister's face; like a stormcloud devouring the sun. A front paw came up and scratched gently at her chest as if she could just tear the sin from her skin. It would not work, it was a sickness with no cure: a death penalty.

"What other evidence do you have besides your word?" she spat at Quailstar.

Strangely, Redfeather himself felt almost nothing. It was as if a part of his mind just could not fathom the thought of his mother feeling anything other than cold. Was their father truly Eaglestar? Surely two great leaders of PureClan could not - _would _not - fall in love with each other. Impossible. Absolutely impossible. So, who were they? Who was their father? Who had done the unthinkable and infected Icestar?

Quailstar curled her lip. "As leader my word is law, and as I said moments ago why would I lie about something as _heinous _as this?" She sighed. "But if you insist, I was approached by some city cats that hoped by sharing information they could secure safety. They told me they had witnessed Eaglestar and Icestar, along with Solace the old city boss and her goons, in an alleyway. According to them it was an execution for Eaglestar, they started killing him over and over until they couldn't take it anymore. So Icestar killed them, then admitted that this was all happening because she had fallen in love with him, and then she killed Eaglestar."

It wasn't hard to admit that it sounded very much like something Icestar would do. Destroy the problem without destroying herself. A chill settled over him; perhaps it had destroyed her as well.

Heronmist scrunched her face in disgust. "So her grand reign was all built upon her worst sin? The stories of her accomplishments will be spoken of for seasons and no one will ever know she was infected."

"So we aren't telling anyone else?" Hawkstorm sounded relieved.

"Most definitely not!" Quailstar snapped. "This sensitive information does not go beyond us. If I find out you've told anyone I'll butcher you - and that is a _promise_."

In moments like this Redfeather could really see his mother in Quailstar; a ghost haunting its killer, a lingering face in still water. "Why did you tell us then?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I felt that you three deserved to know so that you could be on guard. We still don't know if the Poison can be passed down."

With that, the dawn discussion was finished. Quailstar began speaking to Hawkstorm about raid business, and Heronmist floated off towards the forest lost deep in her own mind. Redfeather himself was unsure of what to do now. It seemed that his world had been pushed ever so slightly off its axis and realignment was impossible. There would be no returning to the way it was before, not with what now sat heavy on his shoulders; the knowledge that his mother had once known love in ways PureClan should never.

Somewhere, far down in the dark, it stung that she had loved another but never him.

**/-\**

His name was Addler.

He had three older siblings in the City. Three older siblings that ever since birth had outshined him. Lyle with his brawn, Theodora with her brains, and Finn with both. But he had loved them all regardless; his family, his home, his life. A life of anonymity didn't seem so bad with them.

Until PureClan found them. A monster wrapped in sleek gray fur, blood dripping from an open maw. Sweet mother put herself before them, curled her lip and bared her teeth, then died screaming. Lyle cried, his leg snapped in two, Theodora begged, Finn stared blankly, and he...he hid under a dumpster shaking like a leaf. The monster laughed.

Often, after he had joined a tiny rebellion of sorts, he stood on the edge between City and Forest and watched the ghosts of his family disappear into the trees.

Now he was Cedarstorm and he lived within those trees.

Icestar had been nothing but a name, and a nightmare, when he had stumbled upon that patrol in the woods. Sickly fear had curled deep in his belly, swelled in his throat. He clung to his plan. The monsters would take him into their depths, and then he would slay their Queen. Funny, it had seemed so straight forward back in the City, so simple and easy.

The Pit ruined him. The smell, the screams, the blood. The knowledge that he may be left to rot in the deep dark; or that he would slip on something wet and snap his neck. His dreams ran wild, feral. _They _visited him; Lyle, Theodora, Finn, and Mother. They cried for him, with him. Because in the end PureClan had claimed their whole family.

Until it didn't.

His memory of what happened in that horrible circle in their horrible camp was foggy. But he remembered the crack, and the coldness that settled when that vicious apprentice died.

He remembered seeing her with his own eyes for the very first time. Shining white, her face a fading brown. She looked tired and her body was riddled with old wounds and new wounds. Her eyes - such a cold yellow - looked straight at him, and they rippled with shock and horror and something else he thought could have been love. _No PureClan leader was capable of love._

The Clan demanded he pay blood for blood. Death for death. A poisoned life for an 'innocent' one. While they screamed and shouted, while they jostled and jeered, Icestar stared at him eyes glassy like she was somewhere far away from her bloodied camp.

"What's your name?" she'd asked over the noise.

"Addler," he'd whispered.

Make a vow. Bind himself to PureClan - a life for a life - and _live. _The possibilities played out on his eyelids, the things he could learn about these creatures, their weaknesses, their strengths, their secrets. All would be invaluable to the tiny resistance hiding in the shadows of the City. It didn't cross his mind until much later that he needed to be alive in order to feed information back home.

When they dragged Icestar from her den, when an usurper crowed that an execution would take place, he began to realise just how unprepared he was for the deadly game every PureClan soul played. A bloody cat and mouse like warfare with each other. They'd kill her, and they'd kill him. Then she saved his life. Again. Icestar, monster of PureClan, looked him in the eye with no disgust, no hatred, and sacrificed herself. For the first time since the slaughter of his family Addler's rage was silenced. She did not fight. She did not beg. She looked her murderers in the eyes and walked into Death's waiting embrace. It had made him feel almost guilty for what he would do with her death; that he would use it to ultimately destroy her Clan.

He didn't feel guilty anymore.

Being one of them was terrifying. Addler felt like he was a lamb lost deep in the woods, surrounded by wolves - all it would take was one slip and he'd be dinner. At best PureClan treated him like he was invisible, or a bit of dirt stuck to their paw. At worst they openly despised him, bared their teeth, outright refused to be anywhere near him lest they catch the Poison.

But it was also fascinating. They were so normal at times that it was very easy to forget what horrors they frequently practiced. The young were treasured and educated. The old lived in luxury, their every need seen to, their every desire granted.

He'd begun to wonder, quite frequently, just where it had all gone wrong. At what point did the monstrous ideal that love is poison sweep into PureClan and morph it into the creature it was today? Had it always been there? Had some stranger started a cult one day? Had the Gods raged at the world so much they infected some poor cats with such a vicious mission? Addler wanted to know so desperately the history behind the bloodbath.

It was how he found himself following Redfeather beyond the safety of the camp into the murky forest beyond. Aside from the mandatory border patrols and hunting parties Addler did not like to stray from camp; it would be far too easy for a shadow to creep up behind him, for someone's claws to 'slip'. Strangely, however, he trusted Redfeather to a degree. There was something ever so slightly different about him compared to the rest.

"Will you tell me about your Clan?" Addler asked a little while later, as they hesitated by the river. "Where it came from?"

Redfeather eyed him curiously. "It's your Clan now too." Then he sighed, crouched on the pebbled shore, and watched the river. "But I suppose you best know our history if you want to fit in. Our founder was Brightstar, and a long time ago we lived far from here. We weren't called PureClan then. We didn't fear the Poison, didn't kill those we thought were infected by it. Brightstar discovered love's true danger and proposed to the other Clans that it should be banned. They called her crazy, denied her request, laughed her away from the Gathering. So she took her entire Clan and disappeared into the night. Our ancestors arrived here, found it to be perfect for what they needed and we've never left since."

"It all sounds so...normal," Addler replied. He felt almost disappointed. Where was the villain that had manipulated them into believing love was evil? It was impossible for him to understand how this Brightstar had just arrived at such an outlandish conclusion.

"There are many slightly different versions of how we came to be PureClan. I'm sure if you ask around you'll hear the bloodier, more vicious tale -" the warrior shrugged -"but in the end does how we got here truly matter? We're here now, and I doubt we'll ever disappear again."

Panic pinched at Addler. This Clan was a behemoth, a being of immense power, set deep in their traditions, always baying for blood. How could any outsiders hope to destroy them? They were an army always marching to war, and the City was just another target to vanquish.

"You'll see the truth eventually. The Poison will purge itself from you, and then you'll truly be one of us." Redfeather said it so casually not intending to be threatening but those words hit Addler like a blow. Perhaps he meant it to be soothing. But all he could think about was losing himself in this nightmare place, becoming the very monster he'd sworn to kill.

"Oh well lookie here." It was a thin voice, a bit high pitched, but definitely nasty and it belonged to Nightwing. She had Bonetooth, Robinleap, and Owlfoot with her and they looked _hungry_. This was exactly why Addler didn't go for jaunty walks in PureClan's shadowed forest. Here, on the river's edge deep inside enemy lines, would anyone protect him?

The pebbles shifted as Redfeather rose to his feet, dropping lazily into a low stretch. "Out for some hunting?" he asked them.

Owlfoot's eyes glinted in the mid-afternoon haze. Everything about the PureClan cats was predatory: they way they looked, the way they walked, even the way they talked. Surrounded and outnumbered Addler felt very much like the wolves had finally caught their lamb. "Of a sort," the green-eyed warrior purred.

The hulking cream warrior lurking a little ways behind the rest of the patrol Addler had seen around Redfeather before. Bonetooth. A monstrous creature that could probably kill him in one swipe. Fear roiled in his gut. Had they been waiting for him to get ever so slightly comfortable around Redfeather? Had they anticipated he would want to learn about his new prison? It was a trap. His heart beat a frantic rhythm.

"Say, Redfeather," Robinleap said coyly. "Would you mind turning a blind eye for a little while? Go for a wander back through the trees and into the meadow, perhaps?"

Behind Addler, Redfeather made a soft noise of displeasure. "Now why would I do that when I'm perfectly content by the river?" He prowled by Addler's side, and Addler flinched. Any moment now he expected the sting of claw through flesh, the bite of teeth into bone. "You wouldn't be trying to shoo me away for suspicious reasons now would you?"

"Enough," Bonetooth spat. "Don't pretend. We want it gone, it doesn't belong here with us. You can either walk away or join in. It's up to you."

He was scared. He was terrified. As much as Addler hated this forest and the Clan, he didn't want to die. Not this way, no doubt brutal and intensely painful. Despite his terror he curled his lip, bared his teeth, and hissed at them.

But it was Redfeather's thundering snarl that took the warriors by surprise. "You'd kill your own Clanmate?" he spat at them. "You'd break the Code?!"

At least Bonetooth had the decency to look a little ashamed, and Owlfoot looked away. Nightwing laughed. "I hardly count the Tainted as a Clanmate. He could slip his Poison into our blood when we sleep, whisper his curse into our ears. We're a stronger breed, Redfeather, because we guard ourselves so well against the Poison. Letting one of _them_ into our home puts all that to waste!"

"Let me be extremely clear with you," Redfeather said, a promise of violence dripping from his tongue. "The penalty for traitors - and that is what you would be if you murdered a Clanmate in cold blood - is your own deaths. Execution in front of everyone, and then burial with your backs to StarClan so they never come for your soul."

Addler's legs trembled. For a brief time he'd forgotten that Redfeather was just as much of a monster as the rest. How much blood stained his paws? How many ghosts haunted his sleep? And yet he - a PureClan warrior of practically royal blood - was threatening his own friends to protect a Tainted. Strange how Icestar's bloodline seemed inclined towards protecting him.

"But don't take me for a fool," Redfeather continued."I know how little Quailstar would care if this wayward Tainted fell in the forest and snapped his poor neck. Cedarstorm is under _my _protection and I'll slit the throats of anyone that dares to attack him. Understand?"

Two moons before Addler made the attempt to sneak inside enemy lines PureClan launched a particularly savage attack on the City. Unbeknownst to the Clan the area they'd targeted housed the meagre scraps of a rebellion. So that rebellion sent out its few soldiers to save as many as they could. He was one of them. Under the cold glare of the moon he crept down alleyways, coaxing terrified City cats out of their poor hiding places and back to the supposed safety of the rebellion's dilapidated headquarters. For hours he listened to the screams of those not so lucky, to the laughter and excitement of those that hunted. When dawn was but a smudge on the horizon he returned home.

Only to find Icestar and her monsters, dripping in blood, _playing_ with the innocents he had saved. Chasing them like it was a game. Murdering mothers in front of kittens. Pretending to let a few go, then slicing them open from throat to tail. In the middle of it all was Icestar; her white coat turned to scarlet. He watched as the fur along her hackles bristled, watched as she snagged a skinny tom when he ran passed and tore his throat out.

They survived that night. Rebuilt the tiny rebellion with new purpose. No longer would they let their own streets run red with blood. They wouldn't cower and hide anymore. He volunteered first to bring the fight to PureClan.

It had brought him to this moment by the river - death pacing the shoreline - seeing the ghost of Icestar in Redfeather's ruffled hackles and eyes clouded by rage. He wasn't here to be rescued by the monsters that had already taken so much from him. He was here to kill them all. Rolling over whenever they so much as hissed at him was no longer acceptable.

Addler shouldered Redfeather out of the way ears pressed flat to his head, and put himself whiskers away from Nightwing - so close he could feel the air she breathed. "I killed my way into this Clan. Just like you. PureClan blood looks quite nice on my claws."

"The nerve!" Robinleap shouted, his face twisted into a furious snarl.

"My, my." He expected anger from Nightwing, outrage and her teeth in his skin. But instead she looked almost impressed. "We'll see who comes out on top, fierce Tainted. You're in our world now." Then she left as quickly as she'd arrived, taking her lackies with her.

He and Redfeather stayed silent. They let the breeze lay their hackles flat, let the river's bubbling settle their erratic hearts. Addler felt absolutely exhausted. The adrenaline seeped out of his veins and left his body parched.

"Why'd you do it?" he rasped.

Redfeather lay his mismatched gaze on Addler; studying, curious. He often noticed the warrior watching him, felt his wandering eyes. "I don't know. In her prime my mother killed with no discrimination; Tainted from every walk of life fell under her claws. Yet she saved your life, made you one of us. I would like to see what she saw in you, which would be very difficult if you were dead."

"So we're friends then?" Addler snorted.

He wasn't ready for the peal of laughter Redfeather let out. "Yes, Cedarstorm. I guess that makes us friends of a sort."

**/-\**

Redfeather was dreaming.

He knew this because he'd watched Icestar die. Yet here she was so much younger and _alive_, trying so earnestly to master her hunting crouch.

The edges of her body were blurred with an ever so slight glow, drawing Redfeather's eyes to her. He wondered who's eyes he saw her through. Was StarClan communicating with him?

"Your legs are shaking. Hold still." A cat he didn't recognise slipped between him and his mother; a broad tortoiseshell. "Even the slightest movement can give away your position," she said.

Icestar, so young and soft. She looked completely different and yet also the same. Though Redfeather had only known her for a short period of her life he would recognise the gleam of her blue eyes anywhere. No one could match their bottomless, frozen depths.

The glow around her dissipated as a body hurtled through him, dropping into what he now recognised as the training pit. Tawny gold, lean, and grinning from ear to ear this stranger shouted, "can we join you!?"

"Sorry to disturb," an older voice sighed. "I did tell him to wait patiently, but I don't think Eaglepaw knows what patience is. If you're busy we can train elsewhere, Lilypath."

"No, it's fine. My apprentice could do with letting off a little steam. Would you be opposed to some sparring between the two of them, Silverscar?" Lilypath asked, welcoming them into the pit with a sweep of her tail.

Icepaw rose out of her crouch, cold eyes narrowed, but the twitch of her tail gave away her excitement. He knew that feeling. The thrill of tussling with each other in the dirt, not yet knowing what it felt like to truly battle for your own survival. He'd give anything to know that thrill once more.

"I won't go easy on you," the golden apprentice crowed. Eaglepaw darted at her, then jerked away at the last moment. Teasing. Playing.

The next time he did it Icepaw swept his paws out from under him. She rested a forepaw on his throat. "Oh no, however shall I win. He says he won't go easy on me! I might as well go back to camp without even trying."

Icepaw laughed, and a sharp wind tore through the forest ripping the dream into darkness. He blinked in the sudden pitch black, his heart thudding loudly.

"Hello." It was a quiet, hesitant greeting from someone standing behind him. Yet in the dark silence it boomed and echoed.

Redfeather whipped his head around, and there stood a tomcat wreathed in a muted, silver glow. It was hard to concentrate on him, his form blurred like a long lost memory. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Ah that doesn't matter right now," the stranger said. "You're dreaming by the way. But also not? Does it count as dreaming if it's an event that actually happened?"

"It's from Icestar's apprenticehood, isn't it? She's changed a lot but I recognise her," Redfeather interrupted.

"She was happier then. We all were. The innocent, fun-filled days of apprenticehood make us so unprepared for the harshness of our world."

Redfeather risked a step towards the silver stranger so curious to sneak even a slight glance and who hid behind that light. "Why was I dreaming of it? Surely StarClan must be involved, is something wrong?"

They sighed. "Many things are wrong, Redfeather, but you aren't ready to hear them yet. Do you miss her?"

His heart lurched uncomfortably, because on some level he did. But this was StarClan and they could never _ever _know he cared. Icestar would be remembered for her ferocity, for her bloodlust, and for her death. He couldn't put her legacy at risk. So he lied. "No, I don't miss her. Quailstar is a good leader I'm sure we'll thrive under her."

The stranger sighed again but this time it was filled with disappointment and roared through the darkness. It whipped through Redfeather's fur, such a gale that it nearly lifted him off his paws. "One day -" their voice thundered in the darkness - "you'll see."

Redfeather jerked awake in his nest a startled cry caught in his throat. He needed air. Outside dawn was still only a gentle blush touching the trees. His pair, Bonetooth, gave him a dismissive look from her post at the camp entrance. Ignoring her he pitched his head back to stare at the cold sky and the stars that winked back. He wanted to know who had spoken to him; why they'd shown him his mother's memory. Had it been a trick? A test?

"Are you okay?" Cedarstorm was the last cat he wanted to deal with right now.

He didn't expect to see actual concern in the Tainted's eyes; that endless green gaze, he could drown in it forever. Then he caught a glimpse of Icestar's bloodstain and fear drowned him instead. "I'm not supposed to miss her," he whispered. "But I think I do."

Bonetooth told him to bring back a mouse when he brushed past her, leaving Cedarstorm sitting by himself in the low light of dawn.

**/-\**

"Where'd you go the other night?" Hawkstorm never really asked a question. He demanded an answer and didn't care at all if you didn't want to give it. No sense of empathy or politeness; a PureClan thing.

Redfeather sighed. "Just out hunting, I couldn't sleep. Is that okay with you?"

"_I _don't care what you do with your free time," his brother replied. "As long as it doesn't involve our Tainted guest and I use the word 'guest' very lightly. Bonetooth told me what happened by the river. You should have let them kill him."

An ugly feeling stirred in Redfeather's gut. "Is that your opinion or the opinion of our Clan deputy?" he muttered.

"They are one and the same. I'm the deputy, therefore my opinions hold more sway than yours. Why didn't you let them kill him?" Hawkstorm pressed. "It wouldn't exactly be a loss."

"Because he's a Clanmate now! Icestar named him a warrior before she died, that makes him one of us. We can't just go around killing Clanmates," he spat.

Hawkstorm laughed. "We did with Icestar, quite easily too. She was weak which was making the Clan weak. Same thing goes with the little Tainted runt." He nosed Redfeather in the side, an annoying and persistent poking. "Why do you _care_? You spend one afternoon with the creature and suddenly you're littermates?"

"I don't care," Redfeather hissed. "I just want to uphold our mother's legacy, and part of that legacy lives on in Cedarstorm!"

"Our mother's legacy is a twisted, Tainted thing dripping in lies and blood. Don't you ever forget why she clawed her way to the top. She was _Tainted_, brother. Poisoned. Her legacy is everything we stand against. It disgusts me, and it should disgust you too." Hawkstorm kept his voice low, his eyes scanning the camp to make sure no one could hear.

The ugly feeling in Redfeather's gut was boiling into something like rage. All he ever heard now was how weak and cowardly Icestar had been. It's like everyone had instantly forgotten just how much she'd done in her lifetime; all the territory she'd gained them in the city, all the raids and Tainted they could want - and they'd repaid her by pinning her in the dirt and slitting her throat. The more he thought about his mother the worse he felt, and the more he realised why these feelings were outlawed.

"Whatever, Hawkstorm, I'm not in the mood for arguing with you. Did you actually want something or are we done?" he asked bitterly.

His brother perked up with a soft mew. "There was actually! I figured since you're so close with the Tainted that you could be the one to let him know we're planning on raiding the city in a few days." Hawkstorm's grin was all teeth and malice. "I'm sure the dear little runt will love to know. He's not coming though, can't risk him slipping away and giving up all our secrets."

Ah. Cedarstorm was not going to like that news at all. It didn't stop the thrill that ran through Redfeather; maybe a raid would take his mind off his mother and that Tainted. Maybe it would make him feel better. It had been far too long since the last one.

"I'll tell him."

"Good, and then you can stop talking to him. My plan is to isolate him to the point that he just throws himself in the river and drowns. Doesn't count as us killing him so that keeps StarClan happy." Hawkstorm left him with that pleasant plan, trotting off to his pair's side with a happy flick of his tail.

Redfeather found Cedarstorm loitering curiously by the male medicine cat den, watching Pheasantfang show Thrushpaw how to wrap a cobweb round Shadestreak's leg.

"We hardly ever see anything like this in the City," Cedarstorm said in way of greeting. "All the good healers are busy tending to the City bosses. Us less important cats just die if we get sick."

That sounded awfully brutal. Redfeather couldn't imagine getting sick or injured and not having Pheasantfang around to fix him. "Sounds like a hard life."

Cedarstorm shrugged, "when it's all you know it doesn't seem hard. Do you need something?"

"I do, would you come for a walk with me?"

He couldn't blame the little tom for looking sceptical. They hadn't spoken since Redfeather's abrupt admission a few nights ago, and the last time they'd gone for a walk Nightwing and her group had tried to kill him. He hoped there would come a time that Cedarstorm didn't fear the forest, or what lurked in it. Some fighting training might help.

Distracted, he missed Cedarstorm's answer and zoned back in on his owlish green eyes blinking slowly at him. "I said okay?" Cedarstorm repeated.

"Oh, sorry. Let's go. We won't go far."

PureClan's forest was thick enough that it didn't take long before the camp disappeared from sight and sound. A deluge had soaked everything the night before and by the time they settled in a mostly dry spot raindrops clung to their whiskers. Cedarstorm's golden coat was streaked with dark, damp patches.

"Alright," he said, "we're damp and uncomfortable. What's so important?"

Suddenly the words were stuck in Redfeather's throat. Why was it so hard?! Raiding was such a normal aspect of PureClan life, Cedarstorm was going to encounter it again eventually. But...he'd seemed to be doing so well recently. Adjusting. Becoming one of them, albeit very slowly. Deep down, and he was loathe to admit it, he worried this would ruin that. Disturbed by his train of thought he curled his lip and shook himself. PureClan cats didn't _care_.

"We're going to the City in a few days."

Regret was an emotion Redfeather was vaguely familiar with. The first time had been on a border patrol that stopped by the Pit. He was an apprentice by three moons, beginning to understand and become numb to PureClan's regime, and trying to meet his brother's enthusiasm at getting to see the muddy, foul-smelling hole they kept their Tainted in. Quaildapple's kits were having their warrior trials, and so three lives were needed.

Someone was screaming at the top of their lungs; a scrap of dirty white fur as they were hauled out of the Pit. "No!" But it wasn't the white cat that was screaming. "Take me! Please don't take her!" They were bleeding from a jagged wound on their chest, but the screaming silver she-cat threw herself with no hesitation out of the hole.

"Get back in the Pit or I'll throw you in myself," Icestar snarled.

"I don't want any trouble! Just, please don't take her. She's too young to die. I'll go instead, _please_, I'll go willingly!" they begged, their voice raw and shaking.

Back then Redfeather had been so in awe of how effortlessly his mother ran the Clan. "If you insist. Reedstripe, take the screaming one instead." She took the white scrap off her warrior and let it shiver by her paws with such a glint in her eyes. "Though I should let you know, we like you to have at least a little unwillingness, makes it much more interesting."

Regret was the look in that she-cat's dying eyes when Lakepaw gutted her, hours after watching Icestar slit her kit's throat.

It had been what he'd felt when Icestar bled to death in front of him.

It was what he felt now watching Cedarstorm come to the horrifying realisation of what Redfeather meant. The dimming in his glorious eyes, the anger gathering like a thundercloud, the _hurt_. "Right. Do they expect me to take part?" Cedarstorm asked quietly.

"No. You...they can't trust you not to run away and tell other Tainted about our home," he answered.

"Good. I would rather die than help any of you torture and terrorise the innocent cats just trying to live their lives!" he shouted, rage pulling his face into a snarl. "Did you seriously think I would want anything to do with this?! I am not a PureClan warrior, and I never will be!"

Redfeather's regret curdled. "Your life rests on you convincing everyone you want to be one of us. Do you even understand what Icestar did? What she risked!? One day you'll be on a raid, what will you do then?"

A growl thundered in Cedarstorm's throat as he thrust his face into Redfeather's. "I didn't ask for your mother to sacrifice herself for me. I didn't want this, any of it! Death would have been better than living in fear everyday of my life, waiting for one of your monstrous Clanmates to catch me alone."

"Do you see me like you see them?" Redfeather asked abruptly. "Am I as monstrous as them?"

Cedarstorm gave him a cold, dismissive look. "Yes."

It felt like the rake of claws over his chest, digging deep and cruel. Redfeather hated it. "We do the world a favour when we purge the City every few moons. The Poison must be destroyed. It's dangerous!"

"Love isn't dangerous. It's beautiful, and it makes life worth living."

"All the pain in your life is because of the Poison, why can't you see that!? Why can _none_ of you see that?!" he cried.

Cedarstorm laughed, loud and full of bitterness. He stepped out of Redfeather's reach with his ears pinned flat, glorious eyes brimming with tears. "All the pain," he whispered, "that I have felt in my life has been because of PureClan. You killed _everyone_ I had. Now I have nothing. Now I am nothing. I hope you die in the City, all of you."

**/-\**

Blood splattered the stone, the wall, and his face. His sides heaved as he fought to fill his lungs, pain burning from the long gouges across his ribs. But the blood soaking into his paws made him feel so much better. A final wheeze burst from his prey as their eyes glazed, head sagging back against the cold ground.

It was a cloudy night in the City, the streets and alleys plunged into murky darkness. Occasionally the moon would make a shy appearance, peeking through a gap at the carnage going on below; silver rays illuminating the trembling shadows and spilt blood. PureClan's honourable justice carried out beautifully.

"Why? What have we ever done to you?" they whimpered, long past the point of begging for their Tainted, Poisoned life.

"You exist," Redfeather answered softly. "That is your only crime."

"We haven't done anything!" they wailed.

He sighed, turning away from the body to face the crying tortoiseshell crouched in the light of a street lamp. They were a thin, shaggy she-cat with a ripped left ear and sad amber eyes. "Love is a foul thing supposedly. I have been taught from birth to fight against it." Scowling he looked down at his stained paws. "My mother was the strongest of us all and yet she became Tainted. I fear her mistake has Tainted my blood."

They were crying again, soft little hitches and sniffles. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I have no one else to tell except some nameless stranger that will soon be dead." Something had fractured inside the day in the woods with Cedarstorm. He wasn't supposed to care about anything! And it frustrated him to the point of blind rage not understanding _why_. "My life was fine before he showed up. Now it's complicated."

"My name is Hallie. Please...please don't kill me."

He shook his head, disappointed. When his shadow fell over her she flinched and curled into an even tighter ball. "You ruined it," he said. "This only worked when you were nameless."

Hallie didn't scream, only cried and cried until her heart stopped.

Redfeather remained in the alley until he heard the Clan calling his name, wondering why the thought of Cedarstorm seeing what he'd done was worrying.

**/-\**

Up until a few days ago Addler had forgotten the bloodshed that came with PureClan. For almost three moons he'd been floating in pleasant denial, acting like there weren't monsters hiding within everyone of his 'Clanmates'. But this was a stark, bitter reminder.

They were blood spattered, tired, wounded, and _victorious_. Why wouldn't they be? PureClan was never beaten; they did not know defeat. It was terrifying, the way they talked about the crimes they had committed. The families destroyed. The lives carelessly tossed away.

His eyes found Redfeather in the crowd. The day he'd taken over from Stormshadow and began the perilous task of keeping him safe Addler had been struck by how...beautiful a monster could be. With his stunning mis-matched eyes - sunlit yellow and forest green - and strange coat of honey tinted brown he was very appealing to look at. It was an awful thing but Addler couldn't help letting himself watch the ripple of well used muscles. Never in his time in the City had he laid eyes on such raw beauty.

Now that raw beauty was tainted with the dark red hue of dried blood, streaked through the rich honey of his coat. A long, angry wound ripped across his side; another curled across his cheek and over his yellow eye. Still Addler struggled not to stare.

Redfeather turned, cold eyes sliding over him. The way he looked at him was only ever exciting or terrifying. In a crowd of victorious, bloody PureClan warriors with a strange sort of heat beginning to burn in them, Addler _shivered_.

Without a care for his Clanmates Redfeather pushed his way across camp, a slight limp the only indication he gave of his wounds. "Tonight," the warrior said, voice raspy, "in the meadow. Meet me there, we should talk."

They did need to talk. Addler had not forgotten how they'd parted before PureClan left on their raid - what had been said. He wouldn't take any of it back. The anger he felt towards every member of this Clan was justified by the loss of his family and the loss of his future. One day they would all pay. But he knew things were never so black and white. Perhaps deep down he hoped Redfeather might be capable of change; he missed his mother, that was a start.

"Okay," he replied. "The meadow."

Lilypool and Pheasantfang kept the Clan busy long into the evening, rushing them around in search of more cobwebs or herbs, demanding they help hold down their particularly difficult patients. PureClan never lost, but they certainly never left the City without a scratch. While wrapping a cobweb around Lakewing's leg she shocked Addler by telling him she thought the City cats might be getting stronger. He didn't risk asking any questions but he desperately wanted to.

It was hard not to fall asleep when he finally made it back into his lonely nest, shoved as far away from everyone else as possible. He practically slept outside the warriors den. But it made sneaking out much easier. Redfeather disappeared from the camp without even bothering to attempt sleep. A smart decision probably given how much his eyelids wanted to close. Addler gave it as long as he could before slipping out into the cold night.

Foxtalon's bushy tail flicked aimlessly in the shadows as he did a very poor job of guarding the camp. There were plenty of other little holes through which one could use to slip away into the night. Honestly Addler found it hilarious that PureClan even bothered to guard anything. Before him the City cats didn't dare come anywhere near their forest. Who else did they have to fear?

The sky was clear and filled to the brim with stars, the moon flooding the meadow with silver. It was beautiful. Apparently a gorge sliced through it somewhere along the edge, a border of sorts. He'd never really been brave enough to explore within the grass. Parts of it were very tall. Lovely for an ambush. But he wasn't scared tonight.

Silence aside from the breeze playing with the tall grass made it so easy to forget everything. To forget that he was a prisoner. That Redfeather was his captor.

"There you are. I was beginning to wonder if you'd changed your mind."

He was beautiful in the sunlight.

He was ethereal in the moonlight.

Addler _wanted_. It tore him apart on the inside. It was a betrayal to his family, to the growing rebellion. It didn't change anything. The want burned him alive.

**/-\**

Redfeather's heart ached. He hated it. Looking at Addler bathed in moonlight golden fur turned StarClan silver it _ached_.

"Why wouldn't I come?" Cedarstorm asked as he shouldered his way out of the longer grass. He'd gone deep enough into the meadow to avoid prying eyes, and some strange desire for privacy. It was just them, the moon, and the stars.

"Ah, well we didn't exactly part on good terms," he admitted sheepishly. "Did we?"

Cedarstorm was watching him. "I don't regret the things I said, I meant all of it. This Clan is full of monsters, your way of _life_ is monstrous. PureClan murdered my whole family, I think I'm allowed to be angry at you all."

"So you do think I'm a monster."

"Yes, and no. The things you've done make you a monster and the things you will do in the future might also make you one. But I've seen you care. Some part of you isn't PureClan, and that part isn't a monster."

A sudden gust of wind flattened the tall grass so Redfeather could see the trees, a black smudge in the distance. Some time ago, before Icestar's death, he would have laughed at the idea that he cared. He was a warrior, a descendant of a leader, he couldn't care. It wasn't in his blood. But he had to admit, something had changed. He knew now that he felt grief when he thought of his mother, that he regretted doing nothing when Quailstar and Hawkstorm killed her. He _cared_, even though it was too late to do anything about it.

"I'm sorry," he blurted. "I'm sorry my Clan killed your family. The pain I feel...it must be so much worse for you, for someone that can care and love without fear. Cedarstorm-"

"No, that's not my name. You can't pretend I'm someone I'm not anymore, Redfeather, and I can't pretend either. I am not a PureClan cat, I'm a City cat, a Tainted. But you're here anyway, we're friends regardless," he interrupted.

After a moment's hesitation, because asking this would change something he knew that much, Redfeather said, "what is your name?"

"It's Addler."

He pondered it, turned it over in his head before trying it out on his tongue. "I like it," Redfeather admitted quietly. "It's very...you."

"I have to ask you something now, and I need you to answer me truthfully." Addler caught his gaze and held it. "How many did you kill in the City?"

Redfeather felt the mood turning sour. It was much nicer when they could both pretend they lived in a simple world. "You can't pretend I'm someone I'm not either, okay? This is who I am, and who I have been for so long."

"How many?"

"Just four." He watched Addler flinch, saw the thunderclouds brewing once more behind his glorious eyes. "Normally it's more but I couldn't...before Icestar died and you showed up it was so easy to lose myself in the chaos and the fear. But this time all I could see was her bleeding all over the grass, or you in their place. I don't understand. Something's wrong with me. I'm supposed to kill without feeling or remorse. I'm supposed to hate you! Why can't I hate you?"

Addler's thunderclouds dissipated, replaced by a sort of strangled pity. "I can't tell you why you don't hate me. That's something you need to ask yourself," he said softly, and then started to get up.

"Will you stay?" Redfeather asked. "For a little while longer?"

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Please."

"Then I'll stay, for a little while."

* * *

_a valentines gift for my swyfte~_

_part one of two. no editing we die like men._


	2. BUT OH, MY HEART WAS FLAWED

"Come on!"

It was the meadow brimming with warmth and sunlight, spotted with flowers of blue and white. A soft breeze toyed effortlessly with the grass creating a sea that swayed and ebbed. Within its crashing waves Icebird tumbled, Eagleface at her heels, laughter flung from their throats. They were older now, filled with the pride of being a warrior. But what they did now was secret and teetered on the edge of forbidden. Joy wasn't outright banned in PureClan, but laughing with a tomcat out of sight of anyone else? That was.

Redfeather followed them no longer bound within Eagleface's body, a silent spectator to something he never imagined could happen. Once he had been a stranger to the heat of attraction and longing, now he could see it in them. It wasn't right. But it didn't enrage him like it might have long ago.

He followed them as they played - _played_, like kits - sticking to the gorge end of the meadow as far from any lingering eyes as possible. They knew what they did went against PureClan rules, and yet they did it anyway. What would they do if they knew what became of them?

"I might make you deputy when I'm leader," Eagleface said.

It was darker now, sunset streaking the sky overhead with orange and purple, and they lay in the shorter grass by the gorge shoulder to shoulder.

"Might?" Icebird snorted. "Yeah right, as if you could lead this Clan without me."

"Everyone will be so in awe of my beauty they'll never question the things I ask them to do, even if they're outlandish," he replied.

She rolled onto her side facing him. "Do you ever think that you may put too much faith in how handsome you are?"

"Do _you_ think I put too much faith into it?"

There was a brief pause, a hesitation, a slow intake of breath. "...No."

Behind Redfeather the grass sighed and he turned his head to find the starlit stranger; his dreammaker. "Why this?" he asked them.

"Because it means something, you just refuse to see it," they said.

"Are you ever going to explain to me why I dream about them?"

They shrugged starry shoulders. "This is your journey, Redfeather, when we get to that explanation is up to you."

A branch snapped and Redfeather jerked awake, claws sinking into the bark of the tree he'd been napping in. He was far from the camp, in the bit of forest that jutted out into the meadow right up against the river they used as a border. Blinking the shreds of dream away he peered down through the leaves. His nose caught the scent of a stranger. A Tainted. Picking their way across the narrow part of the river, lip curled as the water sloshed against their chest.

Cool gray fur with a splash of white across their throat and eyes the darkest shade of amber Redfeather had seen. But brave, so brave to willingly enter PureClan's lair. They knew. They had to, the forest stunk of them they'd been here that long.

His mind screamed at him to attack. This was an enemy dripping with Poison entering his home, it was his duty, his _responsibility_, to kill them. But no cat just walked into PureClan for a midday stroll. So instead he waited until they had stepped out of the river, gray coat soaked black, and inched towards the forest before he dropped out of his tree in front of them.

They coiled back like a snake, mouth open in a fierce hiss but Redfeather could see the fear in their wide eyes. "Hello," he said calmly.

"Stay away," she hissed, back arched.

"You don't need to be afraid, I won't hurt you." Redfeather knew it was sort of a lie, he might have to if they posed a danger. But the she-cat didn't need to know that yet.

Her snarl turned into a scowl. "Would you consider it rude if I said I didn't believe you, given what you are?"

"Ah, so you do know who this forest belongs to," he replied. "That makes you being here much stranger. I would strongly advise turning around and wading back through that river."

She looked confused, tilting her head ever so slightly. Slowly she relaxed the uncomfortable, aggressive arch of her spine; the bristling fur smoothing flat. "You _are _a PureClan warrior, aren't you? Since when do you just let outsiders go?"

Redfeather sighed and sat down, flicking his tail over his fore paws. "I'm not quite who I used to be," he admitted. "Consider yourself very, _very _lucky you didn't run into anyone else."

The Tainted shifted into a sunbeam, and the light illuminated scars criss-crossing her chest, rips in her ears, and bumps of scar tissue across her nose. _A fighter. _"I wasn't aware PureClan cats were capable of mercy," she said quietly.

"I wasn't aware outsiders entered PureClan territory willingly."

She smirked. "You don't look as monstrous in the daylight, I must say. My name is Ket, and perhaps you could help me with something?"

"You want help from a PureClan warrior?" Redfeather couldn't help but be surprised, whatever did this Tainted want that would drive them to enter the enemies lair?

"Usually it's considered polite to introduce yourself as well," Ket sniffed. "It's not what I had planned originally, but yes if you're willing to help I could use it."

He let his eyes slip to the river behind her. As a warrior he was duty-bound to protect PureClan with his life, to give the Clan everything without question. To anyone else this would mean cutting Ket down where she stood. Her Poisoned blood would soak into the ground and he would return to camp as a good warrior. But Addler would be disappointed.

"Redfeather," he said, an offering of sorts.

A little smile tugged at the scars on her nose. "I get the very distinct feeling there are no other PureClan cats like you, Redfeather. I'm looking for someone." He knew. Before Ket even said it he knew exactly who she was looking for, and it filled him with dread.

"His name is Addler, he came here six or so moons ago and never returned."

The truth...that was what she deserved right? Addler had said PureClan killed his whole family, but family wasn't always blood. Had he made a new family afterwards? How would he feel if he had been able to love his family, and one of them disappeared without a trace? If it was anything like the gaping wound his mother's death had left then he understood why Ket was here, risking her life.

"I know him," he said. "He's here, with us."

Ket's eyes widened and she let out a hushed gasp, "he's alive? How!?"

So he told her the story of Icestar and Addler, how she saved his life not once but twice and with her dying breath spat in the face of her own legacy, allowing a Tainted City cat into her Clan to live as one of them forever. As he spoke he realised the Icestar in this story was nothing like the Icestar they had all known: the merciless killer that had painted the City red with blood. He could see that Ket didn't believe it.

"I know it doesn't sound true, if I hadn't been there I wouldn't believe it either," he admitted. "But it is."

Ket shook her head. "It doesn't matter if I believe it or not, Addler is alive. That's all I care about. Will you bring him to me, please?"

He narrowed his eyes at her and flicked back his ears. "No."

The mood surrounding their little riverside meeting began to darken. Redfeather had let this go on for too long, it could put him in danger if someone was watching from the shadows. Most couldn't be bothered worrying over his friendship with Addler but talking with a strange Tainted, one that had snuck inside their borders? That could get him killed. He wasn't stupid either, Ket would drain Addler of all his PureClan knowledge.

"You need to leave," he hissed. "Don't ever come back, I might not be so kind next time."

Ket drew herself up to her full, towering height, a growl thundering in her throat. "He's a prisoner, isn't he? That story you told me was a lie, there's no way you'd make him a warrior. I _want_ to see him, Redfeather. I want him to come home."

"So what? You're going to kill me and then walk straight into our camp? What a grand plan," he sneered.

"I'll do whatever I must to get him back," she spat and took a threatening step forward. Her claws sunk into the soft ground beneath her.

Redfeather didn't move, didn't even flinch. He could kill her in a heartbeat if he wanted to and she'd never see it coming. A part of him did want to. Her being here, asking after Addler, was putting him in danger. Quailstar would have him killed. She'd make Redfeather watch just to make a point.

"If you don't leave now I'll slit your throat and drown your body in the river. You're putting Addler in more danger being here. Do you think the whole Clan just accepted a Tainted into their ranks? If he so much as blinks in the direction of the City they'll kill him. Now _get out_."

Ket jerked back as if she'd been struck. "Why do you sound like you care for him?" she demanded. "I know you're incapable of feeling, everyone knows that."

Now Redfeather began to advance on her, his lip curled back into a savage snarl. If his warnings kept falling on deaf ears what other choice would he have? No one could know she'd been here. He was already going to have to dunk himself in the river to wash her scent off. "You should be grateful that someone here is looking out for him."

At the last possible moment, when Redfeather was about to kill her, Ket finally turned around and jumped into the river. He followed her in until the water soaked his shoulders ensuring that she waded all the way to the other side. The water was so cold that it made his teeth chatter.

"Hey!" she shouted. "If you change your mind and you want to bring him to me I'll be around. Come find me."

"Unlikely," Redfeather muttered as he hauled himself from the water.

When he turned around the opposite bank was empty; Ket had disappeared into the forest.

/-\

They gave him a 'pair'. Redfeather explained that this was PureClan's way of ensuring their bloodline lived forever even without love; matching cats together to produce strong offspring. Then he'd pointed out his own pair, the towering white she-cat that had been by the river that day.

"It's our duty to our Clan, so one day I'll be a father." He'd shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Addler had been horrified.

He was still horrified now as his pair walked towards him, amber eyes narrowed to slits. She was a dark tortoiseshell, like the colour of shadowed autumn leaves, and her name was Wrenstrike. Hurriedly he glanced around for Redfeather only to find him scowling at Hawkstorm.

"So I'm the lucky she-cat that ends up with you," Wrenstrike purred coldly. "How wonderful."

"This isn't exactly ideal for me either," he retorted.

She cocked her head, considering him. Then she surprised him by smiling, a tiny little lift of the corners of her mouth. "No, I suppose it's not. Well what do we do about it?"

"Can't you just swap for someone else?" Addler offered with a loose shrug of his shoulders.

Beside them Birchclaw, a thin tabby with shredded ears and sickly yellow eyes, barked out a rasping laugh. "There's no swapping pairs," he said. "Would defeat the purpose of assigning them in the first place."

Addler scowled, and then he noticed something much, _much _worse heading their way.

Of all the cats in PureClan he was scared of, there was only one that truly terrified him: Quailstar. Because one had to be unflinchingly cruel and evil to claw their way to the very top of the Clan, and because she'd made it abundantly clear that he wasn't a rotting corpse only due to her mother's hastily created law. Addler never wanted to be caught alone with her.

"I do apologise, Wrenstrike, but we had an uneven number and someone had to be assigned to him eventually," Quailstar purred. She always purred but it was never a happy purr, always thick with sarcasm and secrets only she knew. "I hope it won't be too much of a hassle."

Wrenstrike dipped her head respectfully. "No, it won't be a hassle."

"Good." Quailstar pinned Addler in place with her fierce yellow eyes. "_You_," she hissed, "do not even so much as _think_ of kits. Wrenstrike can pick someone else to father her young. While you may act like one of us you will never be allowed to sully our blood with your Poison."

He knew she wanted him to flinch and cower beneath her might, and while he wanted the ground beneath him to open up and swallow him whole, he refused to give her his fear. So he held his ground. "I understand," he replied, dipping his head like Wrenstrike had.

Her nostrils flared, her yellow eyes darkened, and her ears twitched back. _Finally_, he thought as he watched a deep anger swell in her eyes, _I've pushed too far. _Distantly he felt the Clan watching them, their gazes burning into him. _Oh well, I lasted longer than anyone thought I would._

"Not thinking murderous thoughts, are we? Icestar would not be pleased."

Addler could barely contain his sigh of relief.

She swung her head towards him, the anger in her stance fading. "Why of course not, Redfeather. He is, after all, a Clanmate."

"It's nice that you remember." He slid by Addler, carelessly powerful in the way he moved, aggression coiled in the icy tone of his voice.

He fascinated Addler. He was so dangerous, a monster in a pretty pelt, and Addler wanted _more_. The breath in his throat snagged.

"I appreciate its place in my Clan," Quailstar admitted darkly. "I appreciate the reminder it brings us of our mission, the thing we fight to rid the world of." Her mad gaze tripped and held on Addler, "my own little exhibit."

A growl, so faint he could only just hear it, rumbled in Redfeather's throat and in the glare of the late afternoon sun something vicious was brewing in the warrior's eyes. PureClan were creatures of violence, not words. Disputes were not settled without blood in the dark of their forest.

This couldn't happen, the consequences would be severe. An image of Icestar's throat bared to the sky, corralled on all sides by Clanmates that bayed for her blood, played behind his eyes. He knew what Quailstar did to those she no longer favoured.

"I know what I am," Addler said loudly, drawing Quailstar's attention, but it was Redfeather whose eyes he held. "I know what I am to you."

A satisfied smile twisted across Quailstar's muzzle. "Good, I'm glad to hear that. Come, Hawkstorm, we have business to discuss. You as well, Redfeather." And then she was gone, a ferocious but short lived whirlwind.

Addler didn't miss the way Redfeather's eyes burned into him as he turned to follow his leader; a heat that crawled over him from head to toe. He also didn't miss the way the Clan parted around him, other warriors taking sudden, shuffling steps away when they saw him coming. It had always been obvious to Addler - an outsider - that a large majority of PureClan feared the warrior with the mismatched eyes. It thrilled him.

Birchclaw cleared his throat. "I think next Clan gathering," he said as he stood, "I might sit as far away from you as possible. No offence, Cedarstorm, but you seem to attract all the bad attention."

"He does, doesn't he?" Wrenstrike hummed thoughtfully.

"I'd rather attract no attention," he grumbled.

Wrenstrike tilted her head, amber eyes sparking with mischief. "No, I think you like a little bad attention."

He twitched his ear feeling awkward under the sudden not angry attention he was receiving. "What makes you think that?" he asked.

"Just a hunch." His pair shrugged then waved her paw towards the forest. "Let's go for a hunt, the camp is practically buzzing with tension and I could do with a bit of fresh air. Are you joining us, Birchclaw?"

"Unfortunately not. Quailstar doesn't seem to favour those that pander to a Tainted playing warrior, and I like being in her favour," Birchclaw replied, unflinchingly honest.

Wrenstrike curled her lip and snorted. "Suit yourself."

"Let's just go," Addler interrupted. Hawkstorm was watching him intently, cold seeping from his expression. It had been something he'd notice occurring more frequently, the eyes of the deputy following him. It was nothing like how Redfeather had stared.

"I say we go to the old badger den." Wrenstrike began talking about the mice that liked the shadows of the abandoned den, but Addler could only think of the threat he saw lurking in the depths of Hawkstorm's eyes.

Sunset found him sprawled in a pile of leaf litter, the scurry of his prey filling his ears as it ran away. Hunting in the forest would never be his calling. There was always too much going on: the wind, the leaves, the underbrush, his Clanmates, other prey. Too much to focus on. Besides, Addler knew his talents lay more in strategy than strength.

"Well." Wrenstrike frowned at him from the fork of a beech tree. There was dirt clinging to her whiskers, evidence of the squirrel she'd just buried in the roots of the tree. "It's a good thing we don't depend on you for food."

Addler sighed and pawed at his face. He shifted deeper into the leaf pile wondering if he could disappear into it forever, sink into its depths beneath the earth. It did embarrass him how useless he was compared to actual forestborn cats. The apprentices could catch prey better than he could.

"It's different in the city," he mumbled as he rolled onto his back.

The setting sun cast the forest in burning orange and red. Wrenstrike was becoming a silhouette, a strange branch in the sprawling beech. She had a strange look in her eyes and Addler suddenly realised he wasn't supposed to mention who he was before. A thick, sticky fear began to clog in his veins.

His pair slipped down the tree in that terrifying graceful way all PureClan warriors moved. Would she kill him in one swipe? Pry open his throat with those sharp claws? Or would she drag it out, make his screams bleed into the air while he bled into the ground? Addler held himself still but the frantic stampede of his heart gave away his fear.

"What was it like?" Wrenstrike asked, coming to an abrupt stop a few paces away. "In the city."

He took a moment to smother his fear before he answered. "Loud." The roar of cars along the road, night and day never changing, always rushing. People pacing the sidewalks talking, yelling, crying. "Dangerous." Barking that shattered his ears, the thunder of much heavier paws, the clatter of teeth slamming shut on empty air. Bitter battles for meagre scraps of land, sour wounds that spelled death, starvation lurking in the shadows. "But beautiful." Sunlight bouncing from window to window, glancing off puddles, sparkling in fountains. Pockets of green that never quite grew wild. "Home." His family in a garden. Happy. Alive. _Home._

Addler turned his head away. "It doesn't matter anymore." His heart ached.

"Sometimes," she said softly, "I wonder what was more cruel. Icestar killing you that day, or trapping you here forever." When he glanced back at her there was a complicated, conflicted expression haunting her face. "Was it a punishment for you? Or for us?"

He didn't know why it was funny but he laughed at it anyway. "Is my presence really that much of a burden for this Clan? How could I be a punishment for you?"

"We were blind before. We didn't see beyond the Poison. Now? We stare it in the eye every morning, eat beside it every sunhigh, sit with it as the sun sets. Once a monster coiled in the City, now a friend, a pair, a Clanmate."

A deep sadness was beginning to form a stone in his throat, a pity he'd never felt for PureClan before. "Is that what you see friendship as?" he murmured. "Punishment?"

Wrenstrike flinched, and that haunted look was shuttered away behind a mask. "I'm going back to camp," she said. Then she was gone, dark tail swishing out of sight; an exit so sudden that she'd left her squirrel behind, buried in the roots of the beech.

He dug it out with gentle paws. Food was precious. But perhaps this was not something PureClan had to think about in their bountiful home. The forest went dark around him, the sun losing its grip on the horizon. Addler's fear returned; he should not be out here alone in the night. Carefully, quietly, he began to creep back to camp. Low to the ground, golden coat smothered by the undergrowth, ears twitching each time he heard a whisper of noise.

When he'd volunteered for this mission he hadn't considered the outcomes. All he could concentrate on was the blind rage burning inside him, the aching desire for revenge. He knew he would die. Everyone in the tiny rebellion knew PureClan would kill him. If only they could see him now: a warrior, one of the Clan, protected by Icestar's blood. It wasn't lost on him that he'd been left completely alone. How easy it would be just to slip away, to run back to the City. But for what? Nothing would change.

A twig cracked nearby and Addler froze, heart stuttering. He scented the air but every inch of this forest dripped with the smell of PureClan, and he still struggled to tell his Clanmates apart. A patch of tall ferns quivered to his left. Addler made his decision in a heartbeat. He dropped the squirrel and threw himself through the ferns, the air rushing out of his lungs when he collided with something firm.

"What in the name of StarClan are you doing?!"

From his new position upside down in a now squished bush Addler made eye contact with Redfeather. Half of the fern leaves were clinging to his pelt and the sight of it, along with the gushing relief that he wasn't about to be murdered, made him laugh. He couldn't stop until his lungs began to burn.

When his laughter subsided into soft giggles he opened his eyes and found Redfeather standing over him, bits of fern still stuck in his fur. "This isn't funny," he said.

"Yes it is," Addler purred.

A small smile tweaked the corners of Redfeather's mouth. "Okay, it's a little funny. But I could have been anyone and you could have been in serious trouble." Then he frowned. "What _are _you doing out here on your own?"

"Wrenstrike left. We were hunting, well she was hunting I was hopeless. And you? What are you doing out here?"

He brushed one of his paws along Addler's exposed belly and the faintest hint of claws sent a shiver rippling up Addler's spine. Redfeather's eyes were ablaze in the gloom: a midnight sun and the cold, cold forest.

"I was worried," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You didn't come back with Wrenstrike." Something dark swelled in the depths of gaze. "I had to come find you."

"How did you find me?" Addler asked, breathless and entirely distracted by the paw dragging up towards his throat.

"I will always find you."

It should have been threatening. Those words from the mouth of Icestar's kin should fill him with icy fear. Instead they lit a forest fire in his veins and it burned him with a fierceness he'd never felt before. "Do you really mean that?"

Their eyes met and Redfeather nodded. "It is one of the few things I am entirely certain of," he murmured. "But I don't know why."

Addler smiled, small and shy. "It means you care."

He expected alarm or fear from the warrior, and for those burning eyes of his to turn away. Instead his face softened. "Sometimes," he said, "it is very easy to care. Is that how it feels for you?"

"For me it's as natural as breathing."

Redfeather hesitated. "Do you...do you care for me?"

Addler hoped his family weren't watching this betrayal. Would they judge him for his poisoned heart? His mother's warm face swelled in his memory, and how all she ever wanted was the best for him. This wasn't the best. This was dangerous and reckless and _stupid_. But Addler had weighed his life and found it worth little. _I'm sorry_, he said to the family he'd lost, _for my worthless heart_.

"I care for you, Redfeather," he whispered.

A ghost of _something_ flitted across the warrior's face, and then he was moving away, turning his back on Addler. "You shouldn't."

Rejection coiled in Addler's heart but really, what else had he been expecting? "But I do." He rolled to his feet angry at the terrible forest filled with terrible creatures that had stripped all life and happiness from each other. "You know, deep down, that you care for me. As a friend. As _someone_. If I was to die tomorrow it would hurt you."

"Don't say that."

"Admit it!"

Redfeather swung his head around, a darkness swelling in the depths of his eyes. "It would hurt me, Addler! I think it would feel like Icestar dying but worse somehow, and I would do stupid things to avenge you." He curled his mouth into a snarl. "That's why this is banned. That's why this is a Poison. It's a weakness."

"Why are you so afraid of feeling?" Addler demanded.

A great gust of wind rattled the trees, scattering leaves and ripping at their fur. It let scattered drops of moonlight slip in through the canopy and they illuminated the shadows haunting Redfeather's face, and the beauty of his agony.

"My father," he said, "was called Eaglestar. He and my mother were paired, and he made her his deputy. Three moons before my siblings and I were born he was killed in a raid by a City cat called Solace. At least, that's what Icestar told everyone." He paused, and the moonlight shined off the whites of his eyes. "Quailstar didn't have Icestar killed just to become leader. She'd discovered what happened in the City that night; Icestar had been working with Solace to set up a trap for Eaglestar because she had...fallen in love with him. She believed killing him would free her of the Poison. My mother fell in love; she was _Tainted. _Her blood flows through my veins and with it her mistake, that's what I'm afraid of, Addler. I don't want to die like she did."

Addler fell silent. Words died on his tongue. He was having a very sudden realisation of how big the world was outside his own problems. All he'd been thinking about was getting Redfeather to care - to _love_ \- and for what? What would it prove if he fixed one of them? The rebellion wouldn't care, their desire to burn this forest wouldn't be quenched by a lovelorn warrior. Everything he'd been doing, the pushing for answers and feelings, had just been putting Redfeather in an incredibly dangerous position.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I wasn't thinking."

There was a sigh and then Redfeather was pressing his nose to the top of Addler's head. "I don't want you to misunderstand me," he breathed. "Sometimes, when the day is quiet, my thoughts drift to you. I'm not sure what that means but it makes me happy, even though it frightens me as well."

A rush of heat swept through Addler, spreading from nose to tail until he was as warm as the peak of summer, when the grass turned brown and the air was heavy.

"I'm sorry I can't give you more than that," Redfeather whispered, and he sounded so disappointed in himself that Addler's heart clenched.

"It's fine," he said and reached up to rub against Redfeather's chin. "It's more than enough."

They stayed like that for a while, pressed against each other in the shadows of the forest while the wind tried to pull them apart. It was dangerous. It was stupid. At any moment anyone could find them and that would be it, they'd be executed. But their embrace was heavenly warm, and for the briefest of moments they were _free_; just two souls colliding beneath the stars.

It was enough.

/-\

He taught Addler to fight like a warrior, not like an alleycat. With grace and precision. Forethought. He needed to learn the dance PureClan performed every day, the art of a nation always at war. It was difficult at the best of times, and Redfeather found that he needed to remind himself that not everyone born was expected to fight. Yet Addler tried and tried, even when he grew frustrated.

"One day," Redfeather had said one evening, "I may not be around to save you."

Addler had uncoiled from his defensive crouch on the ground, a sharp smile his weapon of choice. "One day I might be the one protecting you."

If the Clan noticed they spent most of their days together no one cared enough to say anything. Why would they worry that the Poison was soiling their royal bloodline? To them that was impossible. So they let the two be, let them flee into the depths of the forest to hunt and fight until the sun bled from the sky. When the day turned cold and dark they crept into the meadow. In the long grass they allowed themselves to just _be_. No Poison. No Clan. No rebellion.

Wrenstrike joined them every now and then. "I just want to make sure my pair knows how to survive," she said. But Redfeather knew. He knew how easy it was to fall into Addler's grip, to see the world beyond this forest in his storm-blue eyes and to _want_. So he let her follow them into the trees, let her teach Addler how to kill. She needed a real friend.

"Do you think," she whispered to him one day while they watched Addler stalk a bird, "that StarClan sent him to us?"

He thought of his dreams: the silver phantom that showed him a secret past. "I don't know," he answered. The bird took flight and Addler leapt, forepaws reaching out, claws glinting in the sun. He snagged the bird and with a victorious cry, snapped its neck. "But if they did I am grateful."

"They'll kill him if they find out."

"I won't let them."

But for all the caution, the hiding, the sneaking, the secrets, Redfeather knew it would not be peaceful for long. Happiness did not grow in PureClan. It was smothered at the first sign, killed in the night like a leader fallen out of faith with their subjects.

He was right, of course.

"Brother!"

Some time before sunhigh, eight moons after Addler's bloody joining, Hawkstorm strode towards Redfeather with a look of self-importance. Being made deputy really hadn't helped his inflated ego. It had confused him for a while why Quailstar had chosen Hawkstorm as her deputy. He was an idiot with an empty head full of empty dreams; why give him such an important role? That was the beauty of it though, he'd swiftly realised, an idiot wouldn't dream of murdering their own leader for more power. How cunning it was to plan against the very thing she had done.

"Can I help you?" Redfeather replied.

"Oh always, brother, but this time I'm the one helping you." Hawkstorm flashed a toothy, charming smile that was definitely intended to be threatening; behind him Nightwing leered with her lackeys. A feeling of uneasiness began to spread like a fine mist.

He eyed Bonetooth, Owlfoot, and Robinleap through a narrowed gaze and flexed his claws into the soft grass. "Does this need to be such a public conversation, _brother_?"

"Not really but I like a crowd." Hawkstorm strode closer invading the quiet sunhigh moment Redfeather had been enjoying. "I have a great many worries, not surprising for my position. Recently however I've been particularly worried about you and it is distracting me from more important matters."

Redfeather couldn't help himself, it was instinctual. "I didn't realise you were capable of worrying. What does our great deputy worry about? Where in the camp will there be the perfect patch of sunlight for his mid-afternoon nap?" he sneered.

"Do not provoke me," Hawkstorm spat. "I will not hesitate to slit you open from throat to tail in front of everyone. We can add your bloodstain to the collection, move it next to mother's perhaps?"

It felt like a psychical blow, as if claws had reached in and scoured his heart. A chilling agony that chased the air from his lungs and burned the back of his throat; a kind of hurt that made his knees want to buckle beneath him. For a moment, a mere sliver of a heartbeat, he considered tearing Hawkstorm to pieces right there, in front of the Clan so they would _know _the depths of his agony. How deep the hole Icestar's death had carved truly was.

Instead he forced back the bitter bile of grief stained rage, and thanked the Stars Addler was out with Wrenstrike and Birchclaw because he would have known how close Redfeather had been. He always knew.

"What do you want?" he hissed through gritted teeth.

"I know he's poisoning you." Hawkstorm's voice was hushed, and dark.

The anger surging in his veins turned to horror, not that Hawkstorm was wrong but because he was _right. _Each and every day since he'd arrived Addler had been poisoning him, sneaking his way into what was once an impenetrable suit of armour - and each day Redfeather let him do it. Enjoyed it. Began to crave it.

"Don't worry, brother," Hawkstorm murmured in his ear. "I'm going to save you."

He let his hackles bristle and curled his lip to hiss, "I don't need saving."

"Yes," he said, then laughed softly. "You really do."

If Heronmist hadn't shoved her way in between the two of them Redfeather was convinced their quiet conversation would have turned into an all out brawl. Nothing out of the ordinary for PureClan, really. A sunhigh murder would make for wonderful sunset chatter.

"You two are such an embarrassment," she growled. The odd-ball of the family, their dear Heronmist, with her strange grey-speckled coat and soft nature. Easily overlooked, easily forgotten even though her own daughter sat pretty on the throne. "We have a reputation to maintain."

Hawkstorm pulled away and bared his teeth in a threatening smile. "My apologies, sister. We simply got...carried away."

They watched him saunter back to Nightwing, so casual and calm. His pair, Reedstripe, had joined them and her belly hung low and round. Everything seemed to be going so _right_ for Hawkstorm. It made Redfeather hurt somewhere deep within his heart, a lost part left to gather dust.

"Everything that happens in this forest they see," Heronmist said. "You can't hide."

"I'm not hiding anything," he snapped in reply.

There was nothing but disbelief in her warm, sunlit yellow eyes. "I don't care what happens, and I refuse to be a part in whatever game you're playing." She turned her attention back to the group cloistered around their brother. "I already know you're going to lose."

That night he lay awake in his nest unable to close his eyes, unable to sleep. Would they drag Addler away in the dead of night? Or would they just put him down in the den? His mind churned - a river in a storm, thrashed by the wind and rain. Out of fear he hadn't said a word to Addler for the rest of the day and put as much distance between them as he could. Addler was smart, he'd know it was for a reason. But it had felt wrong, like suddenly having a limb removed and forgetting only to remember when he tried to use it.

He lay there, eyes drinking in Addler's sleeping form bathed in the soft silver of moonlight, desperately thinking of solutions.

And then just as dawn broke Redfeather had an idea.

It was a horrible, awful idea and the implications it carried terrified him.

But it was the only idea he had.

With such limited time Redfeather snuck out of camp the following night, heart still strangely heavy for ignoring Addler. Anxiety clutched him in its cruel grip and as he slunk through the shadows he pictured Hawkstorm following him, catching him in the act of this awful deed.

The river was achingly cold, the current strong. Even at its shallowest point he struggled against being dragged under the surface. To say he was relieved when he hauled himself out onto the opposite bank would be an understatement. Shaking the freezing riverwater from his coat he hesitated, staring out into the unclaimed forest; there would be no turning back from what he was about to do. No forgiveness. No mercy.

Redfeather took that step into the unclaimed, his Clan behind him, his back turned from StarClan. For a while there were only the sounds of the forest, crickets and the whizz of bugs, the wind threading through the trees. His anxiety bared its vicious teeth; what if she'd left?

"I was wondering when I would see you again." Her amber eyes burned in the darkness, her gray coat almost invisible in the low light.

"Ket," he said in greeting.

She climbed out of the hollow log she'd been hiding in, broad shoulders brushing the edges. "Redfeather. What do you want?"

This was it. On this patch of unclaimed land, standing face-to-face with someone supposed to be his enemy, he would sell his soul. He would sell everything, all of it, for Addler. It rocked his very foundations, an earthquake shaking his faith to pieces.

"I want to make a deal."

Ket's ears pricked. "A deal," she murmured. "How interesting, but I must ask what could I possibly have that you would want?"

_Turn around_, his mind screamed, _run back home before this goes too far. No one ever has to know. _

"It's not something you have, it's something you can do." The words felt like stones lodged in his throat. "In five days we are travelling to the City, our deputy has chosen to raid during the day. During that raid I need you to ambush and kill him."

* * *

yes i changed addler's eye colour, yes i will edit it in the previous chapter. we're in the endgame now folks prepare for much murder and angst.


End file.
